


A sense of peace

by captainhurricane



Category: Berserk
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:44:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4985188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even the black swordsman needs to take a breather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A sense of peace

How is this their life? The rocking of the ship has laid them to sleep for numerous nights in a row now, the gentle chatter of the crew and friends is a suitable background music for the turmoil of the world. In the middle of the ocean no fairytales can come to life. Except for the waves crashing against the sides of the ship, for the mermaids swimming by it, their laughter mingling with the cries of seagulls. The air is salty and cold.

Guts sits on the deck, back against the wailing seawind and looks around himself without really registering what he sees. His prosthetic fingers clench into a fist then back again, the joints make a little squeak but not now, now Guts prefers to sit down and take a breather. The fingers of his remaining hand curl into a ball, like clutching the sword handle that is not there. Guts misses it like it was an extra limb. 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Casca clinging to Farnese’s arm and at the sight of them he flinches, mouth tightening just a bit. No longer does Casca (strong, brave, heroic Casca) look at him with immense fear but she doesn’t come to him for comfort, doesn’t point out all the wonders of the world to him. It’s a childish annoyance but Guts lets himself feel it, merely offers a slight smile when both women turn to him. Farnese answers the smile with another of her own and a wave, Casca blinks then tugs on Farnese’s arm and points at what could be a hawk far in the sky. Guts doesn’t look at the birds and not the women either anymore, doesn’t look and listen when Farnese stops to talk with the little witch Schierke, dressed once again in her cape but missing her hat. 

To her Guts waves a hand and to him she comes, the wind giving her a healthy flush. She is so very tiny. She is so very young but is it not the truth that Guts was not much older himself when he saw all the bad their world has to offer. Evarella flutters nearby, nothing but a bright light in the vague tiny shape of an elf but she politely stays back. The wind howls and Schierke winces, almost swept away by a big gush of wind. Guts chuckles and reaches out a hand. She grabs it and sits down by him, shielded from the wind by his larger form. 

“It’s soon time for dinner,” she says, her voice, as always brimming with hidden power. Guts admires her and wonders if he could make her laugh if he said so. 

“I know,” Guts murmurs. The ship rocks, sways. The crewmen yell, pull and push. Somewhere above, Roderick is steering and laughing along with the wind. 

“Farnese taught Casca how to do dance today,” Schierke continues, not looking at Guts but all of her gentleness is settled on him. (Even when it’s dark and the dog of hell beside his soul is threatening to devour him, even then- it’s her light that envelopes him and brings him back)

“Oh?” Casca had known how to dance once. Casca had known a great number of things, all of them lost to the sky turning red. 

“They stumbled a lot but they seemed to have a lot of fun,” Schierke continues and now she turns to Guts, her hand on his. Guts wants to protect her (protect all of them) so he lets her, can find it in himself to smile at her. His smiles are rarely given these days (were they ever freely given? Even when he was among his companions who still haunt his dreams?) but to these new companions they come easier. To the little witch Schierke with all the power of the universe at her fingertips. To all. 

“That’s nice,” Guts says. Before Schierke can open her mouth, can utter words of comfort, Guts continues: “Should I teach you how to dance one day, Schierke?” She makes a choked sound, withdraws her hand. Her cheeks go bright red.

“Uh, huh, you, you don’t, I’d like that.” Guts wonders what the clench of pain inside himself is. Perhaps he would have teased his daughter like this if- 

The ship sways. The air is salty and cold. Schierke shivers as she gets up and he gets up with her. 

“I’d like that,” he says.


End file.
